if your life could be written on paper and ink, how would you imagine it to be?
i feel like, i'm living my life through the glass. like i'm caught, in this cold and limpid glass box. with no windows. &no doors. i can see everything, but i can't touch or feel anything. no wind, or the smell of flowers. i think i'm a marionette in disguise, masquerading in this human form, as your bestfriend, your shoulder to lean on, your sister &your foe.
&when i finally decide to rip off this facade will you run away?
i can be who you want me to be, only because you pull the strings. but i do get tired sometimes. &if you push me too far, i will break. &when you put me back together again, it'll be totally different.
i'm actually not that happy a person. sometimes i do things unwillingly to make someone happy. like i'm so dictated to circumstances &i dont have a mind on my own. but i'd figured, if it's to make an extra person in this godforsaken place so over-exaggerating-ly exultant, then why not?
because if you could see me now, you'll see that there's no hate, just love and the hope that you'd see it too.
but why am i still so bummed out?
